Sometimes he taped a candy bar under the note, sometimes a silly joke, and sometimes just a smiley face and their name written carefully, like he wanted them to know they had been seen.
Ben still had his from last spring in a shoebox under his bed.
I had never once asked myself who remembered Mr. Walter.
That night, after Ben went upstairs, I posted in the parents’ Facebook group.
“Today, my son realized it was Mr. Walter’s birthday and that no one had said anything to him. We’ve been missing his birthday for years as he celebrated our children’s. I know this sounds small, but it broke my heart. If anyone wants to do something nice for him by Friday, maybe we could organize a card from the kids?”
I expected maybe six comments.
Within an hour, the post had turned into something else.
One mom wrote, “He waited with my daughter at the stop during a storm last year because she was scared.”
Another said, “He normally carries crackers in case kids skipped breakfast.”
A teacher replied, “He once noticed one of my students had no gloves in January and quietly brought him a pair the next day.”
